Save Me
by Breea
Summary: Sam and Dean meet another hunter. They don't trust her but they agree to do a job together and go their separate ways. But do things ever go as simple as planned? -Beginning set near the end of S1-
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Re-uploading. Content is not changed, just author's notes. Added a new chapter. I started this while watching S1 on DVD. I am all caught up on the series. I love the series. It does not go along with my original ideas for the characters however so I am going back to S1/S2 Sam and Dean and storyline. Currently re-watching S1/S2, back when it was fun, monster of the week camp. Hope you enjoy. Please review, they feed a writer's muse._

**Save Me**

Breea © 12-20-08

**Chapter 1**

Emma flipped the page in her notebook, rereading the notes she had taken that morning. She glanced at the book to her left, confirming her suspicions. This was no ordinary, run of the mill spirit. This was going to take some work.

"Hey pretty lady." A voice to her right caught her attention. She turned, an obviously fake smile on her face. She didn't respond verbally. He was cute, but definitely not her type. Too forward, too much of a player. She could tell, just by looking. "Can I buy you a drink?"

The one hazard of doing her work in a bar was being hit on. Usually, she was left alone, because, really, who wanted to talk to a girl who was reading a book in a bar? However, once in a while a guy was drunk enough, or lonely enough, to come and try to talk to her. Her routine was to politely brush them off.

"No thanks," Emma replied, pointing at her half drank beer by her notebook. He glanced down at her notebook then her open books and his expression changed slightly. If she hadn't been watching his face she would have missed it.

"Alright." He replied turning and walking away from her. She watched as he approached a table with another guy sitting at it, working on a laptop. Emma turned back to her notebook, shaking her head. He was probably freaked out by the book, it was old and creepy looking, but there was no way he could know what it was about. Very few people knew about spirits and demons being real; Emma had never personally ran into someone who did.

"I'm telling you, you have to go talk to her." Dean whispered insistently. Sam glanced over Dean's shoulder at the girl sitting at the bar. He squinted in confusion at his brother.

"Why?" Sam asked, not getting his brother's concern.

"Because, she's got some weird books over there. Maybe she's the cause of this thing going on in town. She might be a demon. I don't know, but you need to go talk to her and figure it out."

"How am I going to figure that out-"

"Just talk to her, dude!" Dean slammed his palm on the table, rattling the beer bottles. Sam wasn't sure he'd ever seen him quite so upset about seemingly nothing.

"Alright." Sam held his hands up in surrender, standing from his stool. He walked over to her, wondering what his opening line would be. This was Dean's department, talking to girls in bars. Plus, Sam wasn't entirely sure why Dean was so worked up about her.

"Hey," His opening line was definitely smooth. She turned to look at him, her dark hair falling back behind her shoulder, her hazel eyes meeting his dead on. She half smiled, definitely not inviting.

"Hi." Was all she said. Hmm, this was going to be harder than he thought. He looked down at her notebook and then at the books Dean had mentioned.

"Is that The World of the Living by Warren Coldwell?" Sam's eyes grew wide and he momentarily forgot why he was there. He'd heard about the book but never seen a copy before. It was supposed to have a lot of rare stories and information about uncommon spirits. The title at the top of the page had caught his eye. When he said the words, however, she leaned over the book, obscuring it from his sight. He looked at her face again and was greeted by a curious stare.

"You know about the book?" She asked. Dean's words flooded back to him; she could be the cause of the mess going on in town. After Meg, it was hard to trust any stranger. Still, he nodded in response, finding himself sitting on the empty stool next to her.

"I've heard of it. I've never seen a copy before, where'd you get it?" He asked.

"A close friend lent it to me." She responded, suspicion growing in her voice. "Are you a fan of the supernatural?"

Sam had to chuckle at that. "A fan, no. Far from it." He stopped before he gave away more than he meant to. "Are you?" He countered.

She tilted her head, analyzing him. He tried to appear as innocuous as possible. "You know about the book so you must know something about the supernatural world. Why are you in Jameson? Are you from here, or just visiting?"

"You ask a lot of questions without giving many answers." Sam pointed out, leaning on arm on the bar. He actually wouldn't mind answering her questions, if she'd just answer his.

She stared at him a moment; he figured she was trying to determine what to tell him and what to keep to herself. He understood. Secrecy was important when dealing with outsiders. He had a feeling she wasn't the bad guy in this situation but he was still apprehensive. He wasn't ready to trust very easily.

"I've grown up knowing about the supernatural world. Ghosts. Demons. Spirits. I know about them, and I know how to kill them. I'm what you might call a hunter; I go where something evil is hurting people and I destroy it." She watched his face while she spoke, probably trying to gauge his reaction. If she was expecting surprise or confusion, she was sorely disappointed. While he was surprised to randomly run into another hunter, he knew all along that he and his brother weren't the only ones out there. The only surprising parts to him were that she was a girl and she was alone.

"Well?" Dean's voice startled him. Sam looked up at his brother who suddenly appeared at his shoulder. Dean was never known for his patience.

"Well what?" Sam asked, looking back at the girl. She was hastily putting her notebook and books in her bag. He figured they had about 30 seconds before she was gone.

"Is she, ya know, what I asked earlier?" Dean was not subtle.

"No, I don't think so." Sam told him before turning back to her. "She's a hunter. Like us."

That stopped her. She froze, looking from one brother to the other. "Like you?" She repeated, a little flustered. Sam nodded.

"Yep, and we're probably here for the same reason. Multiple deaths, mysterious circs, no trace of bodies." Sam raised his eyebrows questioningly and she nodded in response. Dean grabbed Sam's arm violently.

"You're just talking to her about this? After what happened with Meg?" Dean was obviously mad. Sam shrugged his hand off.

"Yea, Dean. I mean, I'm not going to trust her to hold a gun to my head but I think talking about something we're all familiar with is safe enough."

"So wait," she interrupted, holding up a hand toward them. "You guys are hunters too? Like, you destroy ghosts and stuff?" She looked totally surprised when they both nodded back at her, Dean a little more reluctantly than Sam. "I've never met another."

"We haven't either. At least, not randomly like this. It's kind of weird, actually." Sam looked at Dean, thinking about how he had "randomly" ran into Meg a few times. Maybe he was wrong to be so open with this girl. He'd have to watch himself, guard his thoughts more carefully.

"Exactly!" Dean claimed, pointing at her. "How do we know you're not causing all this death in the town?"

She frowned at Dean, pushing his finger away from her. "I suppose you don't but do you think I'd still be sitting here talking to you if I was? Sitting at a bar with my books and notebook, just waiting around for my next 'victim'? Talking openly about spirits with strangers. Oooh, yeah, I think that sounds like the M.O. of a killer." She rolled her eyes and stood up, throwing her bag over her shoulder.

"She has a point." Sam pointed out, looking over at Dean who did not look at all convinced. He grumbled under his breath but didn't say another bad word.

"So, if we are both hunting the same thing, we can do one of two things. We can go about it our own separate ways or we can team up and work together. I am all for the spirit of cooperation, but if you guys don't trust me, I'm cool the other way, too."

"I agree with working together, the three of us can get this done faster than two." Sam spoke up before Dean could shoot the suggestion down. Dean did not look happy but he also didn't say anything.

"I'm staying at the Motor Inn across the street if you guys don't have a hotel yet. It's crappy but it's cheap and clean." She offered, starting to head toward the door.

"Sounds good." Sam went over to grab his laptop and bag before following her out the door, Dean right behind him. "So you do this on your own?" Sam couldn't help but asking. He knew Dean had hunted on his own a bit but Sam had never done any of it without his father or brother around. It was so much work and so stressful he couldn't imagine hunting without a partner, to bounce ideas off if nothing else.

"Well, not completely alone." She smiled over her shoulder at him. "My dog keeps me company."

Sam could hear Dean sigh behind him. "Of course there'd be a dog." Dean was not much of an animal lover.

"At least it's not a cat." Sam grinned at his brother. They climbed into the car and drove across the street to get their room at the Motor Inn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Emma closed the door to her room and leaned against it. She yawned loudly before sliding to the floor. Izzy, her chocolate lab came over and licked her face, happy to see her master. Emma pet her absently, thinking about the two guys she had just met. How weird to run into other hunters. They seemed nice enough, though very suspicious of her. In this line of work, though, it paid to be suspicious and not trusting.

She heard voices outside her door and recognized them immediately. She stood up and threw her door open. Dean paused mid unlock, staring at her. The other guy smiled. Emma realized in that moment that she only knew Dean's name and they didn't know her name.

"Neighbors?" She asked rhetorically. If they were unlocking the room next to her, that's obviously what they were.

"Apparently." Dean smiled tightly, no humor in the look. Emma felt Izzy trying to peek around her leg but she pushed her back with her foot.

"I just realized we never introduced ourselves. I'm Emma."

"Sam." The taller one replied. When it was obvious Dean wasn't going to say anything, Sam continued. "That's my brother Dean. Forgive him, he gets a little rude when he's tired." Dean shot his brother a death glare before finishing unlocking their room.

"I'm going to bed." She could hear him say from inside the room. She smiled at Sam.

"Yea, sounds like a good idea. But I thought maybe we could get cell phone numbers so we can keep in touch while we're here. Just in case."

He seemed to think about it for half a second before nodding in agreement. He pulled his out and Emma stepped back into her room to grab hers from her bag. Izzy slipped out and sat at Sam's feet, wagging her tail.

"She likes you." Emma stated, actually slightly surprised. Izzy usually took a while to trust people; Emma had never seen her just go up to someone at sit by them. "She never does that." She told him, holding her cell out to him.

They put their phone numbers into each other's phone and exchanged them back. Sam bent down to pet Izzy. She licked his hand, her tail still wagging crazily. "Pretty dog." He commented, smiling up at Emma.

"Thanks. She's actually very helpful. She's quiet and laid back. She only barks at ghosts, demons, and – "

"Are you coming in or what, Sam?" Dean's voice called from in their motel room. Izzy barked at his voice, her tail hesitating in its wagging.

"Jerks." Emma finished, fighting off a smile. Sam seemed to being doing the same thing. "Good girl, Izzy." Emma whispered, patting her dog's head.

"See you in the morning." Sam nodded at her once before disappearing into the room. Emma went back into hers and got ready for bed. She needed sleep; tomorrow was going to be a long day, she could feel it.

A soft knock on the door jolted her out of bed. She was a light sleeper by trade but she hadn't been sleeping well anyway. She heard Izzy lift her head but there was no bark so whoever it was wasn't evil. Emma opened the door a crack, then wider when she realized who it was.

"Sam." It was obvious she was surprised by her tone of voice.

"Can I come in?" He asked, looking nervous. He seemed unable to hold still, shifting his weight and looking everywhere but at her. Emma frowned but nodded.

"Sure thing." She stepped back to let him in. He sat at the table by the window; it had two chairs on either side of it. As Emma shut the door she realized she was in her pajamas- shorts and a baby-tee. Not the most covered up she'd ever been in her life. Suddenly self conscious, she veered from the table to her duffle bag and grabbed her hoodie. Zipping it up, she sat across from him at the table, curiosity replacing the momentary self-consciousness she just suffered. "Everything alright?" She asked when he didn't start talking.

He finally looked at her from the other side of the table. "I couldn't sleep. I don't sleep much anyway," he gave a humorless laugh and looked down at the table where his hands were tracing an invisible line. "But tonight I was just laying there thinking. I didn't want my tossing and turning to keep up Dean."

"So you thought you'd keep me up instead?" Emma asked, a hint of a smile in her voice. She was glad he could tell she was teasing by his own small grin.

"Yea, I guess. Something told me you might be awake."

"Not exactly, but I'm a light sleeper. It doesn't matter anyway, you obviously have something on your mind you want to talk to me about or you wouldn't be here." Emma liked getting straight to the point, especially at….she glanced at the clock on the nightstand…2:30 in the morning. Ugh.

He paused again, not speaking and not looking at her. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was really only minutes, his eyes met hers. "I don't really know a tactful way of asking this, so I'm just going to ask it." Emma nodded encouragingly when he hesitated again. "Why are you a hunter? How did you find everything out and what put you on this path?"

"Oh, you want to share histories?" Emma asked, looking at him pointedly. She might be willing to share her story, if he'd be willing to share his.

"Well, let me start I guess." Sam backtracked a bit, looking down at the table again. "I feel the need to explain to you why Dean and I are so distrusting. Because I really don't think you're a bad guy. I mean, I wouldn't be in your room right now if I thought that." He chuckled humorlessly and Emma smiled faintly in response.

"We recently had a run-in with a demon. She was a girl I met a while back and then she showed up again in Chicago where she tried to set up a trap for us and our dad. She didn't look like a demon, she didn't act like a demon at first, but she ended up being this really evil being. So meeting another person, especially a girl, who knows so much about what we do…it's just a big coincidence that has not ever really happened before. So Dean's kinda freaked out by it and honestly, I'm still not sure if we can one hundred percent trust you. I'm just going by this gut feeling right now that you're okay."

He stopped, waiting a moment before looking back up at her. "If there is a story that you have, if you can tell me how you got involved in all this, it would help a lot with the trust problem."

"What if I make it up?" Emma couldn't help but ask. What Sam was saying made total sense and she could understand why they were suspicious. To be completely honest, she was slightly suspicious of them. But if she was going to tell him her story, she had to be positive he'd believe it. That meant playing devil's advocate for a few moments first.

"I can't stop you, but I am pretty good at knowing if someone is lying. If you're a demon, though, you could probably fool me." Sam shook his head, his eyes leaving her face and going to the window, even though the curtains were closed. "I don't know why but I just have this feeling if you tell me it will make it easier for us to trust each other. That's why I couldn't sleep; something keeps nagging me that I need to hear your story."

"What if it's personal?" Emma's voice was now a raspy whisper as his request was dredging up memories. "What if I don't want to share it?"

He looked at her again, sympathy apparent in his eyes. "Then you don't have to." He whispered back.

Of course, she didn't have to. But then they would never trust her, especially Dean. For some reason her brain was telling her that would be a bad thing. Something was trying to tell Emma and Sam that they needed to trust each other, it was important. It was also evident that neither one of them knew why.

Emma took a deep breath. She sat back in her chair and pulled her up, wrapping her arms around her knees, grateful the chair was large enough for her to sit in that position. It felt safe. "I guess," She whispered, her voice catching. Clearing her throat, she tried again, a bit louder. "I guess I'll start at the beginning." She saw Sam nod but her thoughts were already far away in her memories. She stared past him, at the wall behind him, barely visible in the dark. She hadn't turned on any lights since Sam's arrival.

"I never actually knew my parents. When I was a couple months old they died in a fire. The story I heard was that my dad got me out, handing me to a neighbor, and ran back in to save my mom. Neither one came out alive." This part was fairly easy to talk about. Having never known her parents, Emma had a hard time feeling attached to their deaths. It was definitely sad that they both died and she would never know them, but it was hard to miss someone you never knew.

"I was adopted by my dad's sister. She was married and had three sons, all older than me. They're the people I consider my family." Emma smiled a bit at the thought of her big brothers. Her aunt's family always treated her like she belonged, like she was one of them. She actually felt blessed at having the good upbringing she had.

Her smile faded as she continued her story. Her eyes focused back on Sam's face. "Long story short, my aunt and uncle were hunters. They were very good at it, too. They raised their sons to be hunters, and they raised me to be a hunter. I grew up in this world of supernatural beings, knowing how to protect myself and how to destroy evil. As soon as we were old enough, we all learned what we needed to know, piece by piece." Emma trailed off, trying to organize her thoughts.

"When I was sixteen my aunt thought it would be a good time to tell me their 'theory' on what happened to my parents. They didn't think it was an ordinary fire. They suspected spirits, or even demons were behind it. About two years ago my uncle thought he had a lead on whatever it was that killed my parents…" Emma trailed off again. It was her turn to look out the window, even though there were still curtains closed in front of it.

"He and my aunt were killed. Car accident. My brothers and I looked for traces of supernatural involvement. We couldn't find any. Though I know we're all still not one hundred percent convinced. My oldest brother, Daniel, decided hunting wasn't worth his life and stopped altogether. Nate is on a revenge streak and no one's really heard from him in over a year. Xander and I keep in contact and we keep on hunting like normal, like our parents would want us to. We still don't know about what they were tracking when they left so I'm not any closer to finding out what killed my parents."

Emma had finally let her eyes wander back to Sam and she stopped when she saw the expression on his face. It was almost…knowing. There was an element of surprise in there, but mostly it seemed like he understood what she was saying, what she was going through.

"And that's pretty much it. That's my story." She finished, wondering exactly how he was going to respond. There were a few moments of silence that seemed to drag on before he finally spoke.

"Did your aunt and uncle ever tell you why they thought it was a demon that killed your parents? Any clues or evidence, or just a hunch?" His voice was quiet but in the still room it sounded loud to her ears. Emma wanted to answer him honestly and correctly, so she chose her words carefully, speaking slowly.

"They were very reluctant to talk about it. I don't think they wanted me to go on a revenge streak so they told me very little. From what I know, the fire started in my room from a gas leak and a faulty lamp wire. When my aunt came down to get me, she tested for EMF and it was everywhere in the remains of the house. My uncle told me he knew of a couple similar stories and every one seemed to revolve around something supernatural. He told me if it was so consistent, it had to be a demon. That's all I know." Emma shrugged, hugging her knees closer a moment before letting her legs drop. She leaned forward toward Sam, hoping he'd tell her his side without her having to ask.

He seemed to be a million miles away. She knew he had been listening to her, now he was in his own train of thought that was not in this room. Emma decided to be patient and wait for him to speak. Izzy whimpered in her sleep and it actually seemed to snap Sam out of it. He looked back at Emma with wide eyes.

"Sorry." He apologized, leaning forward on the table with his arms crossed. "That was, um, quite a story. Not quite what I expected." Emma could see one corner of his mouth twitch in a small smile but it was short lived. "Our story isn't too far off yours, actually. Our mom died when I was a baby, in a fire. Dad got us out and away from the house so she was the only one who died, but he….well he saw everything. And he told us everything. And it was definitely a demon." Sam exhaled slowly through clenched teeth. He seemed like he wanted to get it all out quickly, maybe so he didn't have to think about it for very long.

"Dad raised us like your aunt and uncle raised you guys, as warriors against the evil supernatural of the world. All along, it's been about hunting that demon, but meanwhile saving innocent people and taking out the bad guys." He paused and Emma noticed he was eyeing her. Gauging what to tell her? She didn't know, but she met his gaze head on. Dishonest people don't usually look other people in the eye.

"We were separated for a while, I went to college and dad and Dean kept hunting." He had determined whatever it was he had being trying to determine and continued on with his story. "I was getting ready to go to law school, this year actually. But dad had gone missing and Dean asked me to help." Sam took a deep breath, staring down at the table instead of at Emma now. He seemed to be rushing again.

"I went with him, we didn't find dad, I went back for my law school interview and my girlfriend, Jessica, was killed by the demon, the same way mom was." He stopped short and Emma fought the urge to comfort him or say something reassuring. Neither would be welcome from her at the moment, she had to let him get through this on his own. "So Dean and I are on this…crusade I guess you could call it. Find dad and destroy that demon that killed our family. Take out as many spirits as we can along the way."

"Save innocent lives." Emma added softly, hearing a lot of her own words in his story. He nodded, still staring at the table, inhaling sharply. She didn't think he'd cry but he seemed to be pretty close. Losing your mom and your girlfriend to a sadistic demon was enough to take an emotional toll on anyone. Emma was surprised he was as strong as he was.

"Sounds like we have the same problem then." Sam finally looked back up at Emma's face. It was her turn to nod.

"Maybe the same demon killed both our families." She stated what they were both thinking. "You never found your dad?"

Sam sighed. "Actually, that girl I told you about, Meg, set a trap for us and him a little while back. Dad did end up showing up but we separated ways, thinking it was safer for him. I am still not sure I agree with that, but at least we know he's alive." Emma sensed the bitterness in his voice but decided not to comment on it.

"So you heard my story. Do you believe me? Can you trust me?" Emma asked, getting to the point. After all, it was getting later and she was getting tired.

Sam smiled the first genuine smile she'd seen from him. "Believe you, yes. Trust you, not yet, at least not implicitly. But I think we're getting somewhere."

"Nice." Emma replied, standing up. "Well, that's better than being at a stand still. Or being shot, which I think is what your brother would like to do to me."

Sam stood up too, heading for the door. "Well, maybe not that extreme but my brother does seem to have something against you. Maybe because you didn't respond to his pick up line."

Emma thought a quick moment than laughed. "Hey pretty lady? That's pretty weak; you'll have to ask him if that line has _**ever**_ worked."

Sam chuckled softly and opened her door. He went to step out, Emma following so she could lock the door behind him. He stopped mid step, however, causing her to crash into his back. "Sorry," He offered, turning around as she stepped back. He closed the door behind him. "I just realized I didn't bring a key."

Emma furrowed her brow at him but then widened her eyes in understanding. "You don't want to knock and anger the already pissy Dean." She quickly surmised. With a small, amused sniff, Sam nodded.

"If you don't mind. I won't hear the end of it and I won't get any sleep." He looked at the two double beds in her room, one with Izzy and one that Emma had obviously been sleeping in. He looked at Emma inquiringly.

"Don't look at me. You're sleeping with the dog." Emma told him, climbing into her bed under the covers. Sam nodded as if that was the answer he was expecting. "Sweet dreams." She offered, turning onto her side before he could see her grin. Izzy was not good at sharing the bed, that's why Emma always requested two queen beds. She's let Sam suffer a bit before making her dog sleep on the floor.

To her surprise, there were no complaints from Izzy or from Sam. After a few minutes she rolled over on her other side so she could see their bed. In the dim darkness she could barely make out Sam's prone form along with Izzy's curled up right next to him. Shaking her head, Emma thought about what an out of the ordinary day this had been all around. Before she could think about it more though, exhaustion took over and she fell into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The sudden banging on the door made Emma sit up straight in her bed. Being such a light sleeper, the loud noise made her heart jump and adrenaline pump. Not the most pleasant way to wake up.

"Sam! Sam, you in there?" She could hear Dean's angry voice crystal clear through the cheap motel door. There was more banging but Emma relaxed a bit, glancing at the clock. 6 a.m. Really? So much for a good night's sleep.

Sam was slowly waking and Izzy was still out. Opposite of her master, the dog was a heavy sleeper if she wasn't interested in what was going on. Emma jumped up, wrapping her arms around herself as she stepped toward the door. Dean was still shouting for Sam.

She snatched the door open, meeting Dean's glare with an irritated one of her own. "Chill, dude." She told him, stepping back so he could come in.

"Where's my brother?" Dean demanded, stalking into the room. Emma didn't miss the glance at her wardrobe from him but he seemed much more concerned about his brother's well being than her lack of being covered up. She hurriedly threw on her hoodie that was still hanging on the back of the chair where she put it last night.

"Dean, I'm right here." Sam climbed out of the bed, still in his clothes from the day before. Izzy was awake now and growling softly while looking at Dean.

"Izzy!" Emma hissed and the dog stopped growling but kept a wary eye on the eldest brother.

"What's the problem?" Sam asked a confused look on his face. Dean looked from Emma to Sam, from her bed to the other, then back to Sam. Emma dreaded to think what was going on in his mind right now.

"You stayed here last night?" It was more of an accusation than a question.

"Yea," Sam replied, still confused.

"I woke up, you were gone. I was worried. She still might be a demon you know." Dean pointed a finger in Emma's direction. It was close enough that Emma pushed it away, fighting the urge to rudely roll her eyes.

"Stop sticking your finger in my face." She warned, glaring at him instead.

"She's not, Dean." Sam ignored the exchange. "We talked last night. I think she's okay."

"You talked," Dean was obviously skeptical. "You think she's okay." Sarcasm dripped from every syllable. He looked at her. "Perfect." He was irritated. Remembering why he was there he looked back at Sam. "You slept here?"

"Forgot my key. Didn't want to wake you up."

Dean looked back at Emma. Shaking his head he headed for the open door. "Next time, wake me. I'm going to get dressed. Coffee shop, fifteen minutes." And he was gone.

"Nice brother you have there." Emma told Sam with more than a hint of her own sarcasm.

"Sometimes." Was all Sam said in reply. He also headed for the door. "Fifteen minutes." He reminded her before closing it behind him.

Sam slid into the booth across from his brother. Dean was focused on giving him the silent treatment. Sam was trying to enjoy it while he could. His brother wouldn't be quiet for long. He ordered a coffee, watching Dean stir his own drink absently. Dean looked at his watch, then the clock over the door. He sighed loudly. "Twenty minutes, dude." He said to no one in particular though Sam was the only one in ear shot.

"Just, give her a minute." Sam tried to sound soothing.

"I've given her five!" Dean reminded him forcefully. Sam held up his hands in defense, choosing to let it drop. "This is crazy." Dean added, barely audible.

"I heard her story, last night. Her story isn't far off our own." Sam told him, thanking the waitress that brought him his coffee.

"All the more reason to suspect her, not trust her." Dean leaded forward against the table, trying to press his point. "How can she have a similar story and not be bad news."

"I don't know, Dean. But if she was trying to trick us, I would think she'd go far off in the other direction, not give me my own life story with different characters."

"But now you trust her. So her plan worked."

"Why won't you chill about this?" Sam sighed, taking a big drink from his coffee. It burned his throat but he didn't care. He was going to need all the caffeine he could get to deal with Dean today. He took a drink from one of the three waters on the table that Dean had ordered before he'd gotten there.

"I don't like having to look over my shoulder when I'm working. I'm just picky I guess."

Sam dropped it, not wanting to fight. He saw Emma crossing the street to the diner through the window. "Here she comes." He told Dean before his brother's head exploded.

"You're late." Dean informed her as she slid in the booth next to Sam.

"Sorry, Izzy wasn't really cooperating this morning." She offered in way of an excuse. She ordered an orange juice when the waitress asked her what she wanted. Sam was busy watching Dean who was busy watching Emma. Dean seemed to be waiting for something.

"So, are we going to share what we know about this job so far?" Sam asked, trying to move things along.

"Okay, what do you have?" She asked, picking up her water. Dean looked down at his coffee but Sam could tell he was still watching her. Curious, Sam watched her drink the water too. There was nothing even remotely interesting about that so he looked back at Dean who was now staring out the window. Weird.

"Um," Sam started. Very eloquent. However, in honesty, they didn't have a whole lot on this case yet.

"You first." Dean interrupted, looking at her.

Emma met Dean's gaze with silence for a moment before beginning, staring at him the whole time she spoke. "Three vics in the last two weeks. The only thing they had in common was being from this town and being married. All were violent accidents but located around a central location, a specific road."

"This we know." Dean raised an eyebrow at her, challenging. Emma frowned before continuing.

"Similar deaths occurred in the same area, every five years dating back to the beginning, thirty years ago."

"Boring." Dean fake yawned at her. She pressed her lips together before continuing.

"Over half the victims were known to have been cheating on their spouses, and those are just known ones. So far, I've interviewed the families of the first two victims and they were having affairs. I'm set to talk to the last victim's family today to see what I can get."

Dean took a drink of his coffee. Sam was amused that neither he nor Emma had broken their staring match while talking. "So we're dealing with a lady in white. Easy, we've taken care of that before."

"Hmm," She smiled at him, nodding slightly. "I have a feeling Sam is the brains of this operation."

Dean at least had the good grace to look confused. "What?"

"One would think that, if all the victims were men." She told him pointedly. Dean was silent, unsure of where to go from there. Sam decided it was time to take over.

"So you've talked with the families already?" He asked. She looked at him, her brilliant hazel eyes flashing with a smile when she met his gaze.

"All but the last. Like I said, I'm going over there today."

"So all three of us don't need to do that. Dean and I need to figure out who died on that street and how, to start all this out. You said it started thirty years ago?"

"That's when the first deaths happened, yep." She nodded.

"Sounds like a restless spirit, rather than something out of the ordinary." Sam looked toward Dean.

"Pretty cut and dry, then, when we figure out who it is then." Dean finished his coffee, looking for the waitress for the check. "You're paying for your juice, by the way." He added without looking at Emma. Sam shook his head but she plopped a few dollars on the table for him, rolling her eyes toward Sam with a small smile.

"Alright, I'll call you when I'm done at Mr. Jensen's place." She said, getting out of the booth quickly. She gave them a small wave before heading out toward her rental car.

"You could be nicer." Sam tried.

"You could shut up." Dean countered, watching Emma leave through the window. "Let's go."

"I hate the library." Dean muttered. Sam would laugh except it wasn't the first time he'd heard it.

"It'll be quick, I swear." Sam tried, sitting down at the computer. "Just type in the right key words."

Reluctantly, Dean sat at the computer next to Sam. "What's the name of that street again?" He asked.

"Uh, Willowbranch La-" Sam cut himself off when a flash of light went past his eyes. He felt a tingling in the back of his head. It took him a second but then he knew what was coming. Before he could brace himself, the headache took over and he winced at the sudden onset of pain. Emma's face flashed before his eyes, then the face of a man. They were on a porch of a yellow house.

The vision left but the pain was still there. It wasn't over yet. He heard Dean repeating his name over and over but it seemed distant, as though his brother was shouting to him from across a lake. He couldn't focus on that, all he could focus on was the pain and the pictures that were flashing rapidly through his mind.

The final white, searing hot knife of pain went through his brain and he was in the vision, watching it like you would watch a movie, as an observer with all the right angles. Emma walked to the door, she knocked. This guy answered it. He looked tired and his eyes were dead. Sam couldn't hear what they were saying but he saw them talking. Emma stepped inside his house.

Suddenly he was in the living room. Emma was standing, talking, probably asking questions. She wasn't paying close attention to the man. Sam tried to shout but, it was a vision and the volume was turned totally off in this one. He saw the gun before she did. She was shot before she could run, right in the stomach. Sam watched helplessly as she painfully died, the man standing over her. Sam could suddenly hear what he was saying, only now when it was too late. "Stupid bitches. All the same. Cheating whores."

He was back in the library, Dean's concerned face filling his line of sight. "Sammy?"

Sam tried to sit up but laid back down as his head gave a big throb. There were a few people gathered around, one looked ready to dial 911 on her cell. "No! I'm good, I'm good. Just uh, a migraine." He looked at Dean pointedly and Dean just nodded.

"Alright then, back to the car for your meds," Dean said loudly, helping his brother up. Sam felt an urgency because of his vision and he walked quicker than he should out the library door and to the car.

"We have to stop Emma." Sam said when they were out of ear shot of anyone else. Dean looked concerned but confused.

"Why? Was that a vision?"

"Dean, ask questions later, drive now. We have to hurry." Sam insisted, getting in the car. Surprisingly, Dean obliged, breaking a few speed limit laws to get to where they were going. Between calls to Emma's cell, Sam explained his vision.

"He's going to kill her?" Dean asked, very confused.

"He's messed up Dean, but more over his wife's cheating than her death. He wanted to kill her himself when he found out. Since that opportunity was taken away from him, he's going to lash out at the next girl he sees." Sam wasn't sure how he knew all this, but he did know he was right.

"Emma." Dean's mouth made a tight line and speed up a bit. "Call her again."

"She's not picking up." Sam sighed in frustration but tried her number another time. "Something is very wrong."

Emma paused mid step on the sidewalk, remembering she left her cell phone in the car, hooked to the charger. She debated on going back to get it or continuing on to Mr. Jensen's house. Figuring she wouldn't need it until after the interview, she chose to continue. She had parked down the road to make her cover story of a local reporter more viable. Somehow a rental car just didn't scream local.

She was hoping Sam and Dean would get the history part taken care of. It was kind of nice not to have to do all the work on a job. When you worked alone it was actually a lot of **work**; splitting it up actually made it almost fun.

The neighborhood was quiet. Willowbranch Lane looked like a typical suburban street with nice lawns and respectable cars in the driveways. Nothing about it screamed restless spirit. Of course, when dealing with the supernatural, nothing was as it seemed. She approached the yellow house, glancing over her shoulder at the sound of squealing tires down the road. No car was in her line of sight. Dismissing the sound, she walked up to the front door and knocked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Before Emma could register the arm that snaked around her waist a hand covered her mouth. She was about to use her best moves on her attacker when she heard a "Shhh" whispered in her ear at the same time Dean came into her line of sight. She allowed herself to be dragged back down the stairs, assuming it was Sam who grabbed her. Dean flashed her a surprising smile of all things as Sam pulled her out of sight below the porch as the door swung open.

"Hello! Mr. Jensen, I'm Detective Bronson, APD. I have a few questions to clarify about your wife's death." Dean's voice carried to her and Sam. She had to hand it to him, quick thinking and he sounded professional. If he had a badge, she'd let him in.

"I already talked to-" Mr. Jensen's voice was quiet and wobbly in comparison.

"The police, I know. Something's come up in the case, that's why I need to clarify things. Let's go inside and sit down. Unless you want to come back to the precinct…"

"No, no, come in," The voices grew fainter as they stepped into the house. The door closed loudly behind them. Emma hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until then; she released it slowly. She looked over at Sam who was checking if the coast was clear.

"What was that all about?" She whispered, not knowing whether to be confused or angry.

"I'll explain in a minute." Sam told her without looking at her. "Come on." He led her, in a very sneaky way, across the lawn to the street corner. Their car, blocked from view by the house they were just at by a fence, sat idling loudly.

"You left it running?" She asked.

Sam shrugged. "We were in a hurry." He climbed into the passenger seat so Emma crawled into the back.

"Explanation?" She asked, crossing her arms. She hoped he had a good one.

"You wouldn't believe me." Sam muttered, looking out his window.

Emma sighed in frustration. "Well if you don't explain I'm going to have to be angry. What you two did right now makes no sense. Do you think I can't handle myself? Do you not trust me to interview one guy? Why bother working together if you are going to do all the work yourselves?" The questions just exploded out of her. She wasn't good at hiding her frustrations.

Sam turned to look at her at least. His eyes were a bit wary but he started talking, sounding as if he wasn't sure he wanted to spill the truth. "I have…visions. I can sometimes see bits and pieces of the future, things that are going to happen. And I had one at the library today…" He trailed off, looking out the driver's side window. Dean was headed back toward the idling car, a very grumpy look on his face.

"About me?" Emma could believe a lot of things and a person having visions was low on her scale of the unbelievable. She was past that already. "What happened?"

Sam looked at her. "You died." He said simply as the car door opened and Dean sat in his seat. No more words were spoken as he revved the engine and headed back toward the motel.

In the brothers' room Emma's questions came spilling out again. "What happened? In your vision, Sam? And what really happened when you went in Dean? Did you find out any new leads?"

Dean ignored her and went into the bathroom, slamming the door. Sam sighed loudly and sank onto the edge of the bed. He rested his face in his hands, his shoulders slumped. He looked…tired.

Emma sat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. She wasn't sure why she did it, it just felt like the right thing to do. He turned just his head to look at her and she gave a halfhearted smile. "Thanks for saving me." She offered up, at that moment realizing that's what she needed to say. He nodded then looked back down at the floor. Emma put her hands in her lap, waiting patiently for the answers to her questions she knew they hadn't forgotten.

"You were shot. By Mr. Jensen. He's having issues since his wife cheated on him and when he saw you, in my vision, he just killed you." Sam's voice was quiet but Emma hung on his every word.

"But if he killed me in your vision, how did you know Dean wouldn't get hurt?" She asked.

"Touching." Dean's voice rang out across the room. She hadn't heard the bathroom door open again. He walked in the room and sat on the other bed. "Really, I'm getting teary eyed at your concern."

Emma fought the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him. Sam's answer brought her attention back to him. "It was because you were a girl. That's it. So Dean was fine."

"Called 911 right after I left though. Wouldn't want him unloading that gun on an unsuspecting sales lady." Dean added, flopping backward on the bed so he was laying down. "And yes, his wife was cheating on him. She was driving home from a 'late night of work' and wrapped her BMW around a telephone pole. Tox screen was clear, no bad weather, no other traffic. Just lost control of the car and bang, dead." Dean sighed. "We need some background on this so we know what to do next."

"I'll go to the library." Emma said, standing up.

"No," Sam said at the same time Dean blurted out, "Perfect."

Dean sat up and looked at Sam. "She'll be safe in a library." Dean pointed out. "And if she does the research, I won't have to go back to the library. It's a win-win situation."

"I'll go with you," Sam offered, standing up too.

"I can handle it," Emma was slightly offended.

"It's better than sitting around here waiting," Sam mumbled to her.

"I heard that!" Dean growled, changing his position on the bed so he could see the TV better. He flipped it on with the controller and waved at the two of them. "You kids have fun."

Sam didn't know where this protectiveness came from but it was a little unsettling for him. He was used to being the one being protected by other people. Being on the other side of the fence, he didn't know how Dean did it all the time. Feeling like you had to watch the person's every move, finding it hard to let them go do stuff on their own, knowing you'd put yourself in harm's way before you let them get hurt; it was a lot of unfamiliar emotions.

Even with Jessica, she had always taken care of him more than he had taken care of her. That was his lot in life, he supposed, the one being taken care of, protected. Some how, though, with Emma, his feelings were that of a protector. He wasn't sure if he liked this switch.

Not that she couldn't take care of herself. The last thing she probably needed was him hovering over her, trying to keep her safe. He was smart enough to realize she wouldn't want him to feel that way about her. She grew up like he did, so she could probably take care of herself as well, if not better, than he could. But it didn't change it; it didn't change the way he felt.

The vision he had was what made him aware of it. He had started feeling it the night before when they had had their talk about their pasts but he didn't register it until after his vision. It was funny, Dean seemed concerned too, even though he'd been bitching about her since they met her. That made sense though; under it all, Dean was an older brother, born to protect people. His instinct was to save the innocent, whether he liked the person or not.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. They were sitting side by side at two computers in the basement of the library. They had been scanning old news articles for over an hour and neither had found anything new, just more of what they already knew. She was staring intently at her screen but the slump in her shoulders told him she was getting tired.

"We could pick this up tomorrow." He offered, catching her attention. She smiled at him.

"No, we should do this now. Before someone else gets hurt." She turned back to her computer, clicking away. Sam looked back toward his computer, wondering what else they could possibly search under to find answers.

"See, persistence pays off," He heard her mumble.

"What?'

"Look, I saw this, by Mr. Jensen's front door. I only noticed and remembered because it was on the first victim's mailbox and the other victim's mantle." She pointed to a picture on her screen. It was a small circle surrounded by symbols and an upside down letter A. "It's a mark, like a demonic tag or brand. I can't tell if it happens before or after the victim is killed. But," She smiled, sitting forward in her seat. "I do know what makes it."

"Is there a way to kill it?" Sam asked. That was always the most important question. If you knew what it was, that was great, but it meant nothing if you didn't know how to kill it.

Emma was busy scanning the page she found. Sam found himself impatiently waiting. Again, he was usually the researcher and Dean was the one who waited. This role reversal stuff was really messing with his head.

Emma finally spoke. "Yes, but there are some tricky things about it. I'll let you read it and see what you think. I just printed it." She went to grab it off the printer. Coming back she smiled at him again. "Let's go kill us a spirit."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Witches?" Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother. "You're joking, right?"

Sam shook his head, thrusting the papers into Dean's face. Dean pushed them away instead of taking them. "Yes, but not ordinary ones. Spirit ones. Then were rose thirty years ago by a woman whose husband was cheating on her. For vengeance. Except the lady didn't know what she was doing and didn't have control over them. So they killed her husband, but also every other adulterer in town."

"This was in the paper?" Dean asked, confused.

"No, a website that had the symbol I saw at each of the houses." Emma explained. Dean glowered at her but didn't interrupt her. "That's how the spirits mark their targets. They go through the town, find the cheaters, mark their dwelling some how then pick them off, one by one."

Sam excitedly cut in. "The site says how to conjure them but it also says you need to know how to control them. It also links to a book that has the summoning spell in it…a book published 30 years ago by a woman from-"

"Lemme guess, Jameson, Georgia." Dean interrupted.

"You got it." Sam said triumphantly, beginning to pace near the foot of the beds. "So the question is, why every five years and how many victims are still marked?"

"No, Sammy, the question is, how do we stop it? Or them. Whatever." Dean corrected his brother.

Sam stopped his pacing and looked at Emma. She sat silently in one of the chairs, watching the two of them work. She looked reluctant to talk. "Well, we confront them, say a spell, splash them with holy water, and put out their ever burning flame." He said the last with a tired sigh.

"Cake!" Dean exclaimed. "Sounds easy."

"It all has to be done within 10 seconds of each other or it doesn't work." Sam clarified.

"And we don't know where the ever burning flame is," Emma added.

"And it probably won't be anywhere near where the next attack will be." Sam sounded a little less hopeful.

"Good news? Any good news with this?" Dean pleaded. "Aw, come on! There has to be some good news."

"Well," Sam looked from Emma to Dean. "There are three of us, so it's possible to make this work. With cell phones and good timing, we just have to figure out where the flame is and where the next attack will be. So, does that count as good news?"

Dean frowned at his brother then looked at Emma. "Aw, man," He complained, sounding a bit like a five year old throwing a temper tantrum. "That's not good news," He added weakly, trying to be quiet about it. Emma just looked at Sam with laughter in her eyes. At least she had a sense of humor about it. "Where do we start?" Dean finally asked, grabbing his jacket off a chair.

They started out the door, Sam beginning to list off the places the ever burning flame could be. Emma stopped up short as they stepped outside, her eyes on the bar.

"You guys figure out the flame thing." She said, not looking at either of them. Sam frowned in confusion, looking over at Dean who just shrugged. "I'll figure out who the next victim is." She finished, heading across the street toward the bar.

"You know something we don't?" Sam called after her, thoroughly bewiledered.

"Maybe," she replied. "I'll call you." Then she was out of ear shot.

Dean snorted in amusement. "Yea, right, I've heard that before."

"It's your own infamous line." Sam pointed out, rolling his eyes and getting into the passenger side of the Impala.

Dean smiled to himself. "Oh. Yeah."

Emma let the door swing closed behind her as she entered the bar. She headed right for the bartender. "Hey," She smiled sweetly, hopping to sway him by being cute and flirty. She usually had good luck influencing people when she wanted to, she just had to put a little sweetness into it.

He returned her smile and added his own "Hey." So far, so good.

"Can I ask you a question?" She leaned on the bar, getting close so it would sound like they were sharing a secret.

"Anything," He was buying it hook, line, and sinker. He leaned in toward her and she smiled wider.

"Any good gossip in this town? Usually the bartender knows all the soap opera stories going around." She let her fingertips touch his, lowering her eyes and looking up at him through her lashes. She felt ridiculous; she was terrible at flirting but she was hoping he'd continue to buy it and not concern himself with why she was asking.

His eyes seemed a bit hazed but he was still grinning. She thought that was a good sign.

"I know everything that goes on in this town." He glanced around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard before leaning in inched away from her with a wink. "Everything." He repeated earnestly.

"Do tell," Emma whispered conspiratorially.

"Well, see that guy in the corner?" He looked over her shoulder. Emma followed his gaze and nodded. "He's skimming funds off the top of his business. He had to fire his longest employed worker because of insufficient funds to pay him. He feels bad but not bad enough to stop."

"Mm, that's terrible." Emma tried to sound interested but she really wanted him to hurry up and get to the gossip she needed. "What else?"

He seemed to speak a little quicker now, maybe to keep her interest. "You heard about that car accident in town, Mrs. Jensen?" Emma nodded, perking up. "She was cheating on her husband. With his brother. Can you imagine?"

Emma held her breath and shook her head no. Now she was getting somewhere.

"And that's not the only affair. Mayor Blake," his voice dropped even lower, "is sleeping with his secretary. How cliché is that?"

Emma giggled with him. "So cliché," she agreed, stepping back from him. His eyes seemed to clear and he looked at her strangely. "Thanks, you've been a super help." Emma flashed him a smile, left a ten on the bar and was out the door before he could protest.

In the parking lot she flipped open her phone and dialed Sam. "Hey." She said, keeping her eyes peeled as she stood alone. "I know the next target."

"Good." Sam's voice was determined. "We found the flame. We'll pick you up in ten minutes."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"The mayor? Is this town for real?" Dean's exasperation was apparent in his voice. He was speeding up the main road as Emma explained who the next victim would be. "How'd you find out?" His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. She was the first to look away.

"Doesn't matter. Where's this flame?" She quickly changed the subject but she could feel Dean's eyes burning into her from the mirror. Sam picked up on her train of thought.

"It was complete coincidence that we drove by it. We were arguing about-" Sam cut himself off, looking over to Dean before continuing. "…about something and we saw it. Amazing really, that we didn't think of it before." As Sam spoke, Dean whipped the car into the high school parking lot.

Emma was confused still but she waited patiently for the big reveal. She looked at the high school and back to the boys. Dean was staring the wrong way out his window and Sam was glaring at the back of Dean's head. Apparently they had forgotten she was in the car.

"Hello? Flame? Everburing? Where?" She prompted, her already thin patience wearing out.

"The school mascot. The 'Blazing Bullets.' So called because during World War II the mayor at the time lit a flame in honor of the hometown soldiers who died in the war. It was lit in the graveyard, less than a hundred yards from the high school, and built in a way so that it would never go out. The mechanics have been updated over the years but the flame has apparently lived up to its name." Sam explained quickly.

"Creepy, honestly." Emma frowned, thinking what a weird way that was to get a school mascot. "But that should be easy, right, just throw some water on the flame and that part is done with."

Dean snorted, but still didn't look at either of them. Sam continued to glare at the back of his brother's head as he spoke. "We have to cut off the power source to the flame. It's built so water doesn't effect it, its rain proof."

Emma shrugged. "Easy. Where is the power source?"

"Under the school." Sam finally looked at her. "We have to break in and find it. We're just not sure where to look."

"How did you figure all this out so quick?" Emma asked, suddenly realizing how much information they were sharing. Sam held up his closed laptop and shook it at her once. "Oh. Well, I don't know how much time we have but someone needs to be tailing Mr. Mayor right now." She pointed out, instinctively looking at her watch.

"Yea, I think that's your job. We'll take care of the flame, you get the holy water and the spell-"

"No!" Dean turned finally and looked at Sam. "I'll get the flame; you go with her to do the spell."

"I thought you needed help with-"

"I don't need help with anything." Dean stated. He started to pull the car out of the parking lot, heading back toward the motel. "I'll get the flame. I don't want her messing the spell up."

"I won't mess-"

"I still have trust issues!" Dean cut her off forcefully. "So Sam will help with the spell and the water, I will get the flame, we'll toast these bitches, and be off on our separate ways."

Emma wanted to pout and argue but for some reason Dean's tone stopped her. It wasn't going to get her anywhere and she needed to work with them, not fight with them. Reluctantly she sighed and sat back in the seat, suddenly wishing this was over already. She needed to get back to her life; she worked better alone.

At the motel, Sam and Emma had barely stepped out of the car before Dean sped off, tires squealing. "Whoa." Sam looked from the car fading in the distance to Emma. "He doesn't like you much."

"He just wants to get this over with." Emma found herself defending him for some reason. Shaking her head she smiled at Sam. "I kinda agree with him. This hunt has been exhausting."

Sam nodded but didn't return her smile. He held up a piece of paper. "Spell," he held up a flask, "holy water." Tucking them both in his coat pockets he headed toward her car. "Now we just need our…victim."

"Well, we know all the 'accidents' happen on that one street." Emma mused aloud but Sam stopped her.

"We can't be at both ends of the street at once. We have to have perfect timing, we can't chance missing something." He pointed out, getting in the passenger side of her rental car. She got in the driver's side.

Emma glanced at her watch again. "If he worked late today, he might still be at the office."

"Or if he stayed to sleep with his secretary." Sam pointed out.

"Bastard," Emma muttered under her breath as she pulled out of the parking lot, heading for City Hall. Sam smiled but neglected to comment.

City Hall wasn't far away. Once there, Sam went inside to figure out if the mayor was still there. He returned so quickly Emma hadn't even had a chance to park. "What?" She asked as he slid back into the passenger seat. He met her hazel eyes with his own intense look.

"He's there. And he's leaving. Be ready."

Emma nodded, pulling the car to the curb in a no parking zone. If anyone asked, they were waiting for someone to drop something off but from the scarcity of traffic, it didn't look like anyone would ask. Not two minutes later, a very important looking, older man with a very attractive, younger woman, walked out of the front of the building.

"How are we going to know it's about to happen?" Emma suddenly asked, aware of the pitfalls in their plan suddenly. Sam shook his head unknowingly, his eyes glued to the mayor as he got in the back of his chauffeured car. Sam pulled out his phone and speed dialed what Emma could only assume was Dean.

"How's it going?" Emma could only hear Sam's end of the conversation. "You what? Dean I don't think…Yeah, yeah, we're trailing him now." Sam looked at her and rolled his eyes before continuing. "You need five minutes? I don't know how long it will be… Look! Don't yell at me, it's out of my control." Sam gave a heavy sigh. Emma could hear Dean's voice over the phone but she couldn't make out the words. It was like he was talking a mile a minute. "Fine. Just be ready for our call. I'll stall the best I can but you know we get one shot-" Sam was cut off again and with another, angrier sigh, he snapped his phone shut in the middle of whatever Dean was saying to him. "He'll be ready." He assured her half heartedly. Emma wasn't so sure.

Dean swore under his breath as he almost slipped again. Of course he had volunteered for the dirty job. _She_ should be down here getting all sweaty and grimy, not him. "But I have trust issues," he reminded himself dryly, shaking his head at his own stubbornness. This was torture, but he was more comfortable knowing that he and Sammy were in charge of the important parts of the process. He didn't know this Emma chick and even if she was a hunter she could be sloppy. He couldn't risk it.

The underground path was well lit but otherwise neglected. The walls dripped, water pooled in places, the cement was cracked and looked unstable. He had found the tunnel rather easily; he supposed most people in town knew it existed. A deadbolt lock wasn't about to keep Dean Winchester from entering anything; so far, the process had been easy.

Then he got to the flame control. He could see the panel at the end of the hallway, the brass plating gleaming in the florescent lights. There was very clearly, in big, bold letters, a switch that said ON and OFF. "Easy." Dean grinned for the first time in what felt like forever. Maybe he did have the piece of cake job. He took a step forward but something changed. As he set his foot down he heard a hiss. Instinctively he stepped back just as bars shot from the ceiling down to the floor, creating an almost jail-like wall between him and the controls.

Slightly short of breath from almost being skewered, Dean reassessed his situation. He grabbed the bars and shook- rock solid, steal bars, two inches in diameter. "Great," he mumbled, frowning. There was no squeezing through and no doorway. The security system would have to be deactivated. Where in the hell was he supposed to find the control to the security system?

"Ahh! I don't have time for this!" He punched the wall out of frustration and anger. He'd been so close and now he had no idea if he could even get to the control to fulfill his end of the deal.

His first realization was that his fist didn't hurt. He punched a cement wall and his fist was fine. Then he noticed the dent he left in the wall. He was strong, but strong enough to leave a mark on cement? He didn't think so. He scratched the mark with his fingernail and the outer layer came off… drywall. He punched the wall again and a large chunk fell to the floor. Blinking a few times as the dust cleared, he saw a metal panel beneath the drywall. "Jackpot." He smiled as he tore away the rest of the flimsy wall. His phone rang just as he finished.

"Hello?" He answered, running his hands over the outside of the panel. This one was silver and less shiny but there was nothing so obvious as an ON/OFF switch. "Going? It's going fine, I'm ripping holes in the walls and trying not to become shish ka bob." He closed his eyes as Sam tried to berate him. "Did you find the mayor?" He cut off his brother mid sentence. "Good, well I need like five minutes, so make sure something doesn't happen til I'm ready." Sam tried to tell him something about not being in control, blah, blah, blah. "Listen, Sammy, I'm going along with this, I'm doing the best I can. You're out there, in the fresh air, which a chick. You got the easy part! I'm down here, sweating, busting my ass, so when I say I need a few minutes, I need a few minutes! Just stall, damn it!" Sam tried again to tell him something but Dean was getting angry. "I know! One shot! I know, just let me-" he cut his sentence off when he heard Sam snap his phone shut. Dean was going to have some words spoken with his brother on phone etiquette when this was all over.

He turned his attention back to the panel before him. There were a few dials and a number pad. Obviously one needed a code. He didn't have time for a code. "Well, always works in the movies," he muttered to himself before pulling out his gun, stepping back, and shooting the number pad. He smiled at the auditory hiss as the bars retracted into the ceiling. "Not so state-of-the-art now, are you?" He hesitated then quickly went through the spot where the bars were just at. Nothing happened. Exhaling loudly, Dean sprinted to the brass panel, flipping open his phone at the same time, speed dialing his brother. "Sam, I'm ready."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"He's pulling over, why is he pulling over?" Emma threw a confused look at Sam who returned an ever helpful shrug. "Drive past or pull over?" Sam didn't answer right away so Emma repeated quicker and louder, "Drive past or pull over?" She wasn't quite sure why she wasn't making her own decision about it but she desperately needed Sam to tell her what to do at that moment.

"Pull over!" Sam shouted back at her as she was already driving past the mayor's car. Emma refrained from snapping at him for his poor timing and silently navigated the car to the curb a couple dozen yards away from the other car. No one had gotten out yet and everything seemed quiet. Emma and Sam sat still, not even daring to breathe.

"What if it's happening in the car right now?" Emma posed, finally exhaling in a sigh. She looked over at Sam who was lost in his own thoughts. "Maybe we should go check?" She watched a muscle twitch in his jaw and his eyes turned on her, indecision apparent.

Before either could decide 2 things happened simultaneously. Sam's phone rang and the back doors of the car behind them were thrown open. Emma could hardly believe the scene unfolding behind them. She vaguely heard Sam talking with Dean on the phone; the pretty secretary was holding a gun trained on the mayor. He was currently safe with the car between her and him but that wasn't going to last long. "Sam, we have to go. NOW."

Emma grabbed her gun from the console and threw her door open. She heard Sam do something similar, still on the phone with Dean. Emma aimed at the secretary before shouting for her to stop. The lady didn't even seem to hear Emma. Sam had pocketed his phone and had his gun trained on her as well. The mayor was shouting for help, crawling away from the woman trying to kill him.

"She killed my chauffeur. She's crazy!" The mayor was shouting, trying to scramble toward Sam and Emma. "Help me, please!" Emma ignored him as best she could, keeping her eyes on the woman with the gun.

"Sam, do you see that?" Emma hissed. Out of the corner or her eye she saw Sam nod. All around the secretary with the gun was a hazy, gray mist. It created a menacing aura around her and Emma could swear that she saw faces in it appear and disappear just as suddenly. "The witches?" Again, a nod. He was pulling something out of his pocket. Reaching out, he offered his phone to her. Emma grabbed it, holding it to her ear.

"Dean?" She shouted into the phone. The guns Sam and Emma had pointed at the possessed woman seemed enough to keep her from advancing any farther, though she kept her wild eyes on her prey; the mayor.

"You?" She heard Dean's voice ask.

"Shut up, are you ready?" She didn't have time for his petty anger at the moment.

"Yes!" He replied back. They were both on phones, she wasn't sure why they were shouting at each other but it seemed appropriate. "Go! Go!"

"Go, Sam!" Emma cried, still keeping her gun on the woman. Sam started speaking, ancient Latin. The words were familiar to Emma but she wasn't exactly sure of their translation. But whatever he was saying made the secretary stop and focus her attention on him, not the mayor. Sam kept reading, faster now. "Be ready Dean." She whispered quietly into the phone.

"I'm on it." He replied.

As Sam finished the incantation the woman threw her head back with an unearthly scream that echoed on the street around them. Emma flinched at the sound but luckily Sam was of presence of mind enough to throw the holy water at her. "Now!" Emma said into the phone and there was an audible click as Dean threw the switch.

"Nooooo…." A faded cry was torn from the woman as she fell. The gray mist swirled over her body for a moment before exploding in an unsubstantial cloud and dissipating into nothing. Emma realized she was shielding her eyes with her gun and she had dropped the phone. She looked over at Sam who was staring at the downed woman intently.

"What's going on? Hello? Emma? Sam!" Dean's voice could be heard from the phone on the ground. Emma bent to pick it up.

"It worked." She replied, surprised that her voice was a bit shaky. Taking a deep breath she steadied herself. "It's gone." Emma looked over at Sam who nodded in confirmation.

"Everyone's okay?" Dean's concern could be heard even over the phone.

"Yea. We're all alright." She looked over at the mayor who was staring at the two of them in awe then at the woman on the ground. She was groaning and starting to stand up. Amazingly, everyone seemed to have survived. "Meet you back at the hotel." She suggested. Dean agreed. Emma handed the phone back to Sam, holstering her gun in the back of her jeans.

"That wasn't so bad." Sam managed a half hearted grin at her before going over to help the woman up. Emma headed over to the mayor.

"You alright?" She asked, offering a hand to help him off the ground. He looked at her hand as though it were a snake that would bite him. "Sir?" She insisted.

"No, I'm not. I was almost just assassinated. By my secretary." The mayor stood up on his own accord. "My friend was murdered in my car and I just witnessed something that common sense can't explain. I am not alright."

Emma sighed, looking over her shoulder at Sam taking care of the secretary. "She wasn't herself. She probably won't even remember it happened." Emma turned back to the mayor. "Mr. Blake, please keep that in mind."

The mayor glared at her but didn't respond. Moments like this usually ended with Emma driving away, unthanked but one less evil in the world. She would rather not be around when the authorities got involved- trying to explain things tended to be more trouble than it was worth. She looked over at Sam who was walking toward her.

"Let's go," it was half a question, half a command that she hissed under her breath but Sam heard it. He nodded, walking past her and getting in the drivers side of her car.

"Stop cheating on your wife." Emma felt a morality command wouldn't hurt this man. "It's not worth your life." She walked past him; he seemed frozen in stunned silence at her words. She climbed into the car and Sam took off the moment her door shut.

They drove in a few moments of silence. Sam was upset; it was obvious. Emma couldn't figure out why.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, unable to keep quiet anymore.

"That woman will go to jail for murder." Sam spat out.

Emma sighed. "Yes, you're probably right." She looked out the window.

"Just frustrating," Sam continued, a bit calmer. "We can't do anything to help her. But it wasn't her fault."

"Part of the job." Emma found herself saying. "The most terrible part. Not being able to help every innocent." She looked back at him. "It sucks." She agreed.

He nodded and they sunk back into silence for the rest of the way back to the motel. Dean was pacing by the Impala. His head jerked up when they pulled in. Sam parked in the only open space near the front office. Dean met them when they got out of the car. When it was apparent that neither one of them was hurt he exhaled loudly.

"Geez! Don't take your time getting back or anything." He scolded. Sam and Emma ignored him, focused on getting their crap and getting out of there. "We're going our separate ways now, right?" Dean stopped in the doorway of his and Sam's room. "Right, Sam? We're leaving? Separately?" He was being sure to be loud enough for Emma to hear.

"Dean, we're done. We have to go. Sure, separately." Emma grabbed her bag and set it in her doorway. Izzy came and sat at her feet, the dog's eyes trained on Dean. He glared back at the dog a moment until she growled. He took an involuntary step back from her.

"I don't know, Dean." Sam's voice stopped them all short.

"You don't know?" Dean asked, walking into his motel room. "What don't you know?"

"She was useful. It's less work with another person. We can get through things quicker with her. We're on the same mission," he listed off things then looked at her, standing from stuffing his clothes in his duffle bag. "It just makes sense."

"What?" Emma and Dean asked simultaneously. "You're insane." Dean added.

"Think about it, Dean. She's gonna end up in half the same places we do. We are always talking about needing another pair of hands and set of eyes. It might work." Sam was standing toe to toe with Dean at this point. Though he was younger, he was several inches taller. Still, Dean was definitely the more intimidating one.

"No." Was his one word answer.

"What is your problem-"

"No. My car, my rules. No."

Emma actually agreed with Dean. Though she could see Sam's point, she didn't feel like defending herself against Dean constantly. Maybe they could hook up and run some cases together, but 24-7 in a car with him…no way.

"It's okay, Sam. Thanks." She smiled genuinely at him. "I'll go. You have my number."

Sam looked like he wanted to protest but the death glare Dean was shooting at him stopped him. "Yeah." Was all he said in response, throwing the last of his things into his backpack.

Emma sighed and gathered her things. For some reason she felt like she was fighting herself by leaving. Her head was nagging at her that Sam was right and she should go back and fight to stay with them. But common sense and reason were winning out over intuition. She smiled to herself when she realized that barely happened anymore.

She looked up at her car when Izzy gave a sudden bark. A strange man was climbing into the driver's seat. With sudden realization, she remembered the keys were left in it. Just what she needed, to report her rental car stolen and be stranded in this town for additional days. "Hey!" She shouted, picking up her pace. "Stop!"

The guy looked at her, grinned, and turned the engine over. Emma took one more step and was stopped by the entire car being engulfed in a ball of fire. She heard the explosion and then…nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Sam watched Emma leave for a moment before glaring at Dean. His brother flopped on the empty bed with a self-satisfied grin. "Back to normal." Dean sighed with content. "Just the way I like it."

"You aren't thinking this through." Sam chided, walking over to stand over him. "She would be useful."

Dean sat up, returning his brother's intensity. "Just because you get a crush doesn't mean we adopt a stray. This team is best as a two and you know it."

"Dean-" whatever Sam was going to say in argument was lost in the explosion outside. Both boys jumped but their reaction was quick, almost instant. They were out the door, assessing the situation immediately. The flames were at least 15 feet high and the car was completely engulfed; whoever had set the bomb wanted to make sure no one survived.

Emma was on the ground, knocked backward by the explosion from what appeared to be her car. Izzy was running in circles, undecided whether she should bark at the flaming car or stay by her master's side.

"Sam, get the dog." Dean was already lifting Emma off the ground. Sam was glad that Dean was quicker than he was. He could have stayed mesmerized by the dancing flames for hours. With the sound of sirens already approaching in the background that was probably not the smartest idea; they didn't need police questioning. He ran over and grabbed the dog's collar. Izzy followed without much fuss.

Dean set Emma in the back seat and Sam let the dog in before him. "Is she alright?" It should have been something he asked before they even made it to the car but he just found the sense of mind to realize he didn't know if she was dead or alive.

Dean looked over at him concern etched into his features, before staring back at the road in front of him. Taking a deep breath he replied rather gruffly, "She's breathing."

Sam looked over his shoulder at her in the back seat. "A hospital, Dean. We need to-"

"We have to get out of here. Someone just tried to kill your girlfriend. We need to get as far away as possible, then maybe a hospital." Dean cut him off, anxiously checking the rearview mirror.

Sam didn't correct him about the 'girlfriend' comment, though it was on the tip of his tongue. He knew that wasn't the point of the conversation and he also knew Dean was right. He glanced back at her again to make sure he could see the rise and fall of her chest before looking out the passenger window.

"Careful what you wish for," Sam whispered rhetorically, thinking about how this was not the way he wanted Emma to join them. He was pretty sure Dean didn't hear him but the sigh his brother gave was almost like it was in agreement. "Wake me when we're safe." He added louder, sinking in his seat and closing his eyes, falling almost immediately into a restless sleep.

The first thing she was aware of was pain. She could feel every nerve in her body like each was a flame licking her skin. The safe, hollow blackness of unconsciousness was inviting her back and she was tempted to succumb. Her stubbornness and curiosity to find out what happened won out though and she dredged her way into waking. The majority of her pain seemed to be emanating from the back of her head, radiating outward to the rest of her body. She had a killer headache.

"Ow," she tried to shout it but it only came out as a moan. Feeling rather weak she whimpered as the full onslaught of pain washed over her. "Owie." She cried a little quieter, stinging tears unwilling springing to her eyes.

"Emma?" The voice was familiar yet she couldn't place it. She opened her eyes but immediately closed them against the light that assaulted her vision, shielding her eyes automatically with her hand. She groaned again in pain when the movement hurt her. Why did she feel this way? She raked her memory but was side tracked when she heard the voice exhale in frustration. "The light," it said to itself and she felt the blackness descend with the click of a lamp.

She dared to lower her hand, fighting back verbal protest as every inch it moved seared her muscles. She opened her eyes again and sighed at the first pleasant thing that happened since she woke up: no pain in her eyes. Letting them adjust she moved only her eyes over to the person leaning over her. Squinting at him, his name floated into her brain from no where.

"Sam?" She asked, her voice hoarse. Clearing her throat she winced when it scratched more than she anticipated. "What happened?"

Sam sat at the edge of her bed. "I wanted to take you to the hospital but Dean refused. He wants to get farther away first but if you have a concussion…"

Bits and pieces were starting to form in her head like puzzle pieces falling into place but there was still a gaping hole where she didn't remember what the big thing was that happened. The reason she was in this bed, every part aching. Sam seemed to pause; she must have looked like she was thinking hard.

"I don't remember." She finally gave up with a sigh, trying not to move too much since at this point breathing hurt.

"The bomb?" He prompted, raising his eyebrows at her in disbelief. His eyes were just bright spots in the dark but she knew that intense look by now and could picture their hazel depths easily. Sam was looking at her with such concern that she should be worried; instead she smiled, happy the small motion didn't hurt one bit.

"Nope, I don't remember a bomb." She really didn't, and it sounded really serious so she wished she _did_ remember it. "I must have been close." She added thinking about how much she hurt.

Before Sam could answer Emma sat up straight in bed, shouting "Izzy!" before thinking it through. "Umpf." She doubled over in pain before having to lie back down. Her head throbbed and a few more tears sprang to her eyes. "Where's my dog?" She cried quietly, realizing her beloved chocolate lab wasn't in the hotel room.

"Uhh," Sam stood and walked to the window. Peaking out the curtains he answered her as he checked the parking lot. "Dean's walking her."

Emma blinked once. Then she blinked again because she wasn't sure she heard him right. "Dean. Is walking. My dog." She repeated. "What?" From what hazy memories she had she recalled that Izzy hadn't liked Dean and had even barked at him. Dean hadn't seemed too fond of Izzy either. So hearing he was walking her came as quite the shock.

"They've bonded I guess, I don't know. He went for a walk and took her. She went willingly." Sam shrugged and came back to sit on the other bed in the room. Emma sat up again, much slower this time. She rested her forehead in her hands, letting her hair fall around her. When that seemed to be a good position she sighed loudly.

"So a bomb, eh? Was it meant for me?" She asked quietly.

Sam sighed also, but Emma didn't risk turning her head to see his face. "Seems so. It was in your car."

"The rental?" _How odd_, she thought. "No idea who?"

"No." Sam sounded frustrated and defeated at the same time. "They must have been quick though, they set it between the time we left the car and went into the hotel room and you came back out. I'm not sure what set it off but you're lucky you weren't in there yet."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut even more, a flash of a grinning face passing before her eyes. When she tried to concentrate on it to see if she could place him, it slipped away. She shook her head carefully. "I still don't remember." She said aloud for Sam's benefit.

"Concussion." Sam said as if confirming a doctor's diagnosis.

"You don't know that." Emma protested. Gingerly she touched the back of her skull where it hurt the most. Her pain was subsiding but she could still feel every bit of skin on her body acutely. "Ow," She whispered when her fingers met the bump on her head. "It's just shock." She added, giving him an alternative so he wouldn't worry so much. "I'll be alright."

Sam sniffed. Emma could sense he wanted to argue but was biting his tongue. She was grateful for that.

The door opened just then and Emma raised her head automatically, biting her bottom lip when it hurt. Before she could say a word her dog was on her, knocking her backward in the bed and licking her face. "I love you too, Izzy." Emma couldn't help but giggle at her dog, despite everything else.

"You're conscious. Good." Dean's voice cut into her sudden good mood. She looked over at him framed in the door, back light casting his face in shadow. She couldn't see his expression so she didn't know if he was being sarcastic or genuinely happy she was awake. Either way, there was only one response she could give him.

"Thank you."

He waved it off, walking in the room and heading into the bathroom. He shut the door with an audible click. Emma turned back to her dog, petting her absently. "Glad you're okay." She mumbled quietly, hugging her briefly. She turned to look at Sam.

"What now?" Dean had been so anxious to get rid of her earlier she was pretty positive they'd ditch her the first moment they could.

"Sleep." Sam replied, crashing back onto the bed he was in. "We'll worry about tomorrow….tomorrow. I'm too tired to think right now." He closed his eyes seconds before Dean made a grand entrance back from the bathroom. He pointed at her and then the bed Sam was currently lying in.

"I'm not sleeping in the same bed as him." Dean stated, kicking his shoes off into the corner of the room. "So you are."

"Dean, c'mon, that's kinda rude-" Sam started to protest, sitting up.

"No! You're smelly, you snore, and…you're a dude, dude! Brother or not, it's just weird. You two can sleep together." He stopped short, contemplating what he just said. "No funny business though, I'm right here."

Emma stifled a groan as she stood up. She was starting to feel less sore so she managed to get to the other bed without incident. Wincing she sat then lied down. "Fine, I will sleep here. Let's not argue and just get some sleep, please." Emma got under the covers as gently as possible though flares of pain shot through her once in a while when she moved too suddenly.

"I'll seep on the ground." Sam mumbled, starting to stand.

"Don't be silly. We're two adults. We can sleep in the same bed fine. I don't mind." Emma looked at him as if he were crazy. "It's just sleep."

Sam frowned but he looked too tired to argue. He climbed in bed next to her and laid on his side as far from her as the bed would allow. Dean leapt into the other bed, bounced around a few times then settled in for the night. She could hear Izzy jump up on the bed next to him. She waited for him to shoo her away but there was nothing but silence in the room. Smiling she rolled over and closed her eyes, sleep descending upon her instantly. For the first night in a long while, she didn't wake at every little noise. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Her eyes snapped open before she even realized she was awake. Blinking twice, she wracked her brain for the reason she was woken up. Before she could remember Sam let out a loud moan that sounded painful. Emma rolled over to look at him.

He seemed to be having a nightmare that was pretty intense. He was trying to talk but it was just mumbled gibberish she couldn't understand. He was sweating but he clutched the blanket all the way up to his chin as if he were cold. His eyes were scrunched in what appeared to be pain and his head was tossing back and forth; the rest of his body was taught with tension.

Emma leaned up on one elbow, unsure of what to do. She knew it was bad to wake a sleepwalker but what about a person with a serious nightmare? She wanted to relieve him of his pain and fear but she didn't want him lashing out at her by accident. He could seriously damage her. She looked over at Dean's bed for help but he was snoozing soundly, Izzy next to him, both oblivious to what was happening with Sam.

Frowning, she debated with herself for another 30 seconds before lightly resting her palm on his chest. His head stopped tossing and the look of pain on his face lessoned. Exhaling slowly, Emma hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath until then. Maybe that woke him up enough to get him out of the nightmare. She felt his body slow begin to relax.

She started to lift her hand so she could roll over and go back to sleep but the minute she broke contact his body seized up and his expression worsened. Emma dropped her hand to his chest again, amazed at how quickly he relaxed at her slightest touch. Sighing softly she figured if she wanted sleep, she'd have to do this. It didn't hurt that he was totally cute and she knew he was a sweet guy, but still it felt awkward snuggling up to a guy she just met. But if it made him sleep better, which in turn would let her sleep better, then she'd deal with it.

She rested her head near his shoulder and kept her hand on his chest. It wasn't the most comfortable position she'd ever slept in, but there'd been worse. It still surprised her how completely one-eighty his body language had switched the moment she touched him. Right now he was as relaxed and still as you would imagine anyone would be while sleeping. Maybe he just needed that connection back to the real world from his dream; maybe he just needed someone to ground him. Contemplating all the different possibilities, Emma soon fell back asleep before coming up with an answer.

Sam awoke with a start and an unattractive grunt. He rubbed his hair out of his face, blinking sleepily. Something was different but he wasn't fully awake enough to understand what. The one thing he did know, however, was that this was the most relaxed he'd felt since Jess…died. Normally he woke in the mornings cranky and un-rejuvenated, like he hadn't slept at all. This morning was different. Not to mention, warm.

He felt gentle pressure on his chest and looked down to see a hand lying there. He followed up the arm with his eyes, looking over to see Emma lying next to him with her nose pressed against his shoulder. She was snoring softly and he had to grin; she'd probably be mortified if she knew. While he debated on whether or not to wake her, get up and leave her, or just lie there, her eyes snapped open, her hazel eyes meeting his own instantly.

"Good morning." He whispered, so as not to wake Dean.

She paused for a second, looking like she was getting her bearings. Remembering where she was, she rolled away from him immediately, smiling timidly. "Morning." She mumbled back.

Sam sat up, bending his legs and resting his forearms on his knees. He looked over at her curiously. "What's wrong?"

Emma blinked once before rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. She also sat up. "Nothing." She replied, finally looking over at him. "You were having a nightmare last night." She added softly.

Dean had told him that he made a lot of noises while he slept. Occasionally he woke his brother up but it seemed Dean was getting used to it and slept right through it all now. Sam nodded at her words. "I hear that happens sometimes." He gave her a lopsided grin.

"I wasn't sure if I should wake you." She continued, studying her hands rather than looking at his face. She seemed slightly uncomfortable with her words. Sam wondered what the big deal was. "So I put my hand on your chest and you instantly calmed down." Her words tumbled out in a rush as if she were anxious to get the confession over with. "So I just got close to you because it seemed to soothe you and help you sleep better. I don't know why, but it did. I think it help me sleep better too, actually." She added the last part as if talking to herself, so quiet he hardly heard it.

Sam was a bit skeptical. "You touched me and I calmed down in my sleep?" He summarized her story. "Are you sure you didn't want to just snuggle up against something warm? That happens too, you know." He kept grinning at her, one eyebrow raised in question.

"I don't snuggle." Emma sniffed, turning away from him. She started to climb out of bed, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath before she stood. She was probably still sore from the explosion but she was putting on a good façade.

"But you do snore." Sam couldn't resist. Emma dropped her jaw in indignation, words seeming to fail her. Frowning, she disappeared into the bathroom. Sam kept grinning, lying back on the bed with his hands laced behind his head.

"Lover's quarrel?" Dean's voice was muffled because his face was in the pillow still.

Sam rolled his eyes. "She's not my girlfriend, Dean. You've known her as long as I have."

"You like her." It was a statement of fact, not a question. Sam sighed but didn't respond. He found it best in these situations to not argue. Dean had a way of twisting things to always win an argument. Dropping things usually led to happier results for Sam.

He got up and went to get his laptop. "Time to search for the next hunt," he said aloud to no one in particular. "Nothing like 'the job' to help you ignore your problems," he added to himself. Dean didn't offer a protest to either comment so Sam assumed he would be fine with Emma coming along. He wondered briefly if they should find a hospital for her but she seemed alright and if she was anything like them she'd refuse to go anyway.

As he perused the internet he thought back to what she had said that morning. If he'd been having a nightmare and all it took was just a touch from her to calm him, did that mean something? Did she wake him up enough for him to fall out of the bad dream or was it something more? More importantly, was it weird that it didn't bother him to wake up and find her all snuggled up against him like that? She was practically a stranger; that should feel odd. But it didn't. It felt strangely…right.

Shaking his head, he turned his concentration back to the computer. They needed to work on finding this demon and their father, not spend time worrying about a girl. Maybe it was a one night fluke. It probably wouldn't happen again.

Secretly though, in a place in his head he refused to acknowledge, Sam hoped that it would.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Half Moon, North Carolina? There's really a town named Half Moon?" Dean shook his head in amazement. "And what problem are we dealing with there?"

"Unexplainable double murders, two in the last two weeks." Emma informed him, not looking up from the laptop.

"Not necessarily up our alley." Dean grumbled, eyeing Sam.

"We don't usually know that until we get there." Sam pointed out. "And these aren't just any double murders, they are siblings that are killing each other. A set of brothers and a set of twin sisters, right?" He looked to Emma for confirmation.

"Mmhmm," Emma agreed, eyes still glued to the screen. "Unexplained because the sibs had no prior arguments. It wasn't like they hated each other, or even disliked each other. The girls were supposed best friends. Why they'd kill each other is a mystery." She tore her eyes away from the computer to meet Dean's gaze. "Mystery is up our alley, is it not?"

Dean pressed his lips together and gave her an annoyed look but nodded. "We should check it out." He reluctantly agreed.

"Google maps says less than three hours. I'll drive." Emma popped up from the diner seat and slid Sam's laptop back toward him.

"Oh no no no no, Sweetheart. I may be tolerating you tagging along for a while but I will **not** be letting you drive my baby." He raised an eyebrow at her as he stood. "Ever." He added for emphasis.

Emma pouted but she expected no less. She followed the boys out of the diner and into the Impala. She fed Izzy the leftover scrambled eggs and piece of bacon which her dog scarfed down unceremoniously. They were out of the parking lot and headed down the highway before Izzy had licked her bowl clean. Dean was not one to dilly dally.

They were all anxious to do _something_. Since the car explosion in Georgia they had meandered around the state, avoiding police, searching the web for a case, and generally avoiding the question of whether or not someone was trying to kill her. It took almost two full days before Sam stumbled across this current situation in North Carolina. He had run it past Emma and she agreed there was something strange about the story, something that wasn't quite right.

The time with the boys was less than exciting. They had driven most of the days in silence except for Dean's incessant classic rock which mostly gave Emma a headache. The two nights were spent eating take out in cheap hotel rooms and watching bad cable TV. Sam would surf the internet best he could but until today, nothing weird popped out. They would go to bed early, get up late, and drive some more, searching for something to do. Boy, was she glad there was something to do.

Being a hunter one rarely had down time. A day here, a week there, but most of that down time was spent searching for the next hunt. You never really got a vacation. You got used to living a life on the road, a life of action, a life of always doing something. The down times were difficult when you lived a life of adrenaline rushes.

Riding in the back of the Impala with Metallica beating a permanent dent into her brain, Emma hoped she could sleep off the next three hours despite the blaring music. Luckily, she could.

* * *

Sam had convinced Dean to let Emma come along but he wasn't sure how long this would last. They were tolerating each other well but Sam was tense, waiting for one to explode on the other. He was ninety percent positive that it would be Dean exploding on Emma but for now Dean seemed to be controlling himself. Knowing his brother, he wasn't counting on that lasting long.

The past few days had been rather dull; it felt more like just existing rather than living. They were all searching for a purpose, something to do, but finding something to hunt was taking longer than usual. Or maybe Sam was just feeling more pressure because the longer the other two didn't have their focus on killing some supernatural evil, the more time they had to pay attention to each other. For once, Sam was trying to be the peace keeper. He wondered if that was how Dean felt about him and Dad. Always trying to keep the peace.

The one good thing about the last few days was that he was sleeping better. The nightmares didn't wake him suddenly in the night like they used to. In the past when he awoke from a bad dream he usually didn't make it back to sleep. With Emma there, however, there was an inner peace he never felt before. He noticed it only worked when she touched him. He knew there was something weird, something supernatural, about it but he didn't think it was bad. He didn't question it; it was the only thing letting him sleep. She agreed to sleep next to him, to try and keep a hand on his back or chest while they slept. It was never more physical than that but there was a connection there, with her, with whatever power she possessed. He had to admit, he liked it a bit more than he should.

"What are you smiling about?" Dean's words cut into his thoughts. Sam cleared his throat and shook his head as a negative response. Dean harrumphed but didn't press. "Your girlfriend's asleep in the back with her dog." He told him, glancing in his rearview mirror.

"She's not my girlfriend." Sam corrected him. He still looked over his shoulder to check on her. How she could sleep with this terrible music blaring in the background he didn't know but he had to give her credit, it took talent. Smiling again he looked back out the windshield, noticing the sign that indicated Half Moon was 5 miles down the road.

"That's two smiles in less than a minute, Sammy." Dean stuck two fingers out to make his point. "I haven't seen you smile that much… ever. You're the broody sort."

"You worried about me?"

Dean looked over his shoulder at Emma then back to Sam. "I'm worried about you getting attached to her. She can stick around for a while but we are a duo, Sam, me and you. Three," He looked back at Izzy then to Sam again, "and a half, is a crowd."

Sam shook his head with slight amusement. "We'll see." Sam knew Dean wanted to get rid of her but he also knew she might grow on him if he gave her half a chance. Dean growled something undistinguishable but didn't comment further. He slowed the car as they closed in on the town.

* * *

The slowing of the car woke Emma. Izzy licked her face. She pushed her dog away before she could give her another tongue bath that was unneeded. Izzy complied and contented herself with laying her snout on the door, sticking her nose out the rolled down window behind Dean. Emma sat up and stretched best she could. "We're here?"

"Really is a town called Half Moon. What a weird place to tell people you're from, 'Half Moon.' They'd think you were half crazy." Dean chuckled unenthusiastically at his own play on words, even though he knew it was lame.

"The name _is_ strange." Emma agreed, peeking out the window behind Sam's seat. "But that's not why we came." The town seemed normal enough on the outside. That rarely meant anything in the long run. "Though I do think we should take your picture by the town name on a sign somewhere around here. Classic memory moment." She didn't catch Dean's look in the rearview, she was too busy looking over the seat at Sam's laptop.

"Says the incidents happened outside the local bar, Howlers. Patrons heard-" Sam started reading off the screen.

"Wait." Dean cut him off with a word and hand held up. "Did you say 'Howlers'? Does this place advertise werewolves or what? This is ridiculous."

"But we're not here for werewolf activity." Emma pointed out. "Lunar cycle isn't right and this is person killing person, not an animal attack. We're talking some sort of spirit or demon."

Dean frowned at her. "Well I know that, but I'm just saying. Be more obvious about it, town."

"Probably draws the tourists up from the beach. A way to get money in the town." Sam shrugged. "People are into that weirdo stuff, Dean. They want to come see a town full of supposed werewolves."

"If they ever actually _met_ a werewolf they'd probably think differently." Dean shuttered at the thought. "Those things creep me out."

Sam rolled his eyes but continued reading from his screen. The summary basically explained that the siblings went into the bar together on good terms, had a disagreement somewhere along the way, left the bar to settle it, and ended up shooting each other simultaneously, killing both victims. Emma eyed the two boys in the car.

"Maybe you two shouldn't go in there." She bit her bottom lip, a bit worried. "I mean, you **are** siblings. If this thing is going after brothers or sisters, you'll be vulnerable."

"So far it's only affected locals." Dean pointed out.

"And it's only happened at night." Sam added.

"Which means nothing concrete. How about this, I'll go into the bar, ask questions. You two figure out what happened in this town to make an angry, sibling killing spirit haunt it. We'll meet up in an hour at that restaurant." She pointed across the street from the bar.

"Who gave you permission to give orders, Missy?" Dean glared at her.

"It's alright." Sam held up his hands before Emma could answer. "It's a good plan to start with. We'll meet up in an hour and it can be your turn to be alpha team leader." Sam looked pointedly at Dean.

Both Dean and Emma were ready to argue but Emma knew Sam was just trying to keep them in harmony. She wasn't trying to 'take over' or 'be the leader' but Dean was twisting her words around in his head, making her the bad guy. "I'm leaving Iz in the car." She sighed, hopping out of the back and heading toward the bar.

* * *

Everyone was on time for the meeting an hour later. A plate of cheese fries to be shared between them and each with their own coke, they discussed what had been found. The bartender on duty was actually the only bartender that Howlers' had. He described what he saw both nights of the murders; his accounts didn't differ from the news articles, even with her powers of persuasion. Emma turned up a big goose egg in the information department.

Sam and Dean, however, found out quite a lot. About a hundred and fifty years ago the house had belonged to a family of five; mother, father, two brothers, and a sister. The family wasn't noted much in archives, just the tragic end of the children. When they were all in their late teens, the brothers began fighting. The Civil War was not only tearing apart the country, it was tearing apart families. One brother was for the south, the other agreed with the north. Their younger sister tried to keep peace between them but the debate grew more heated each time the brothers argued. Finally there was a final showdown; both brothers had guns and the argument escalated to violence. In the end, they not only shot each other, but their sister was caught in the crossfire, trying to stop the two from killing each other. All three died in the incident.

"The mother and father moved out but no one wanted to live on the property. The story was too tragic and they thought the place was haunted." Sam told Emma.

"They were probably right." Dean interjected. The other two could only agree.

"When the war hit the town most of the houses were lost. The town was burnt to the ground and had to be rebuilt. They built a pub there instead of a house, hoping that the cheery atmosphere would make people forget about the tragedy." Sam shrugged. "I guess it did for a while."

"So this isn't cyclical? It doesn't happen every certain amount of years or anything?" Emma asked. Sam shook his head. "Weird. I wonder what triggered it."

"Doesn't matter. We find the bones, salt and burn. Bad spirit…gone." Dean summed everything into bit statements.

"I hope it's that easy." Emma sighed, leaning back in her chair. "It's hardly ever that easy."

"It'll be that easy. Just a malevolent spirit out to destroy lives. Nothing fancy." Dean assured her. Emma wasn't as confident but she nodded, unwilling to fight him on the point.

She looked over at Sam. "Cemetery?"

He gave her a wry, lopsided grin. "Cemetery." He agreed.

"Great! I'll drive." Emma sat forward quickly, trying to swipe the keys from the table in front of Dean. He was too quick for her, which she had figured he would be.

"No." It was one word and he meant it.

"I'll get them one of these days." She promised, standing up and following Sam out the door.

The town wasn't big and the cemetery wasn't far. It was typical for small towns, the oldest toward the back, the newer graves in the front. There was a lot of history here; the place was practically humming with energy. It made Emma very uneasy to walk through, as though she were disturbing things better left to rest.

The family plot they were looking for was actually easy to spot. There was a huge statue of two angels weeping over the children's graves. The last name, Clement, was carved in bronze beneath. Sam let out a low whistle as they approached.

"The family had money." He observed the nice headstones and statues.

"It's still well cared for." Emma pointed out fresh flowers at all of the graves. "Someone's around who cares about this family."

"That just means we have to work fast. Grave digging takes a while. We're going to need your help." Dean looked over his shoulder at Emma.

Emma nodded with a halfhearted shrug. "I can dig." She confirmed.

They had to wait for nightfall. Luckily, they didn't have to wait long. Emma tied Izzy to a nearby tree; she was a good lookout to let them know if anyone was approaching. Sam and she took one brother's grave, Mattew's, Dean took the other, Maxwell's. The three of them figured that since it was the brothers who were possessing people, those were the bones that needed to be disposed of. Violent deaths sometimes created violent spirits. Emma sent up a silent prayer that this would be one of those easy jobs, like Dean had said earlier.

The digging was long and arduous. By the time they hit something solid, sweat was running rivulets down her back, tickling her spine. She felt like she had bathed in mud. She was disgusting and she knew it. But this was all going to be over in a matter of minutes. She was craving a shower. The thought of the warm water on her skin made her smile in anticipation. _C'mon Clement brother, die quick and easy for me_, she thought giddily.

Sam hopped out of the grave and offered Emma a hand out. He looked over at Dean who was not quite three quarters of the way down. "I'm going to help him." Sam told her.

Emma sat down between the graves and opened a bottle of water. Taking deep swallows she read the headstone in front of her. Emma Jean Clement, 1845-1964, beloved daughter and sister. Emma blinked and read the name again. The name of the sister was Emma. She was only a few years younger than Emma was now when she died, trying to stop her two brothers from killing each other. Emma glanced over at Sam and Dean who were arguing more than they were digging. _I feel ya_, Emma thought wryly in the headstone's direction. _Brothers suck_.

Dean hit pay dirt moments later and chuckled in triumph. Emma jumped up and brought the salt over. Sam and Dean were busy prying open the casket. It didn't take much effort, it was a simple, old, wooden box. Emma was half hoping, half expecting it to be empty. She covered her face from the dust and dirt; luckily it had been long enough that the corpse didn't stink. She hated the smell of a decaying body. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it.

"See? Bones! Salt and burn. Easy." Dean winked up at her. She grinned back at him, hoping he was right. She handed him the salt before offering a hand to Sam to help him up and out. They went to the Mathhew's grave and did the same with his remains. Done and done.

The cleanup went quick and it wasn't quite midnight yet when they were finished. It was obvious that the graves had been disturbed; there was nothing they could do about that. However, the three of them tried to leave it as neat and orderly as possible. Emma rearranged the flowers on Maxwell's grave one last time. Her eye caught Emma's headstone as she stood back up. She felt a cold finger of fear trace her spine when she looked at that hunk of marble. Something wasn't right.

Sam caught her arm, causing her to start. She shook her head to clear it. They had burned and salted the brothers' bones. It was over. She grinned at Sam. "You ready to go?" He asked. She nodded, following him back to the Impala.

Dean was extolling their work and delighted they didn't have to find a crappy motel in town tonight. "I just don't want to stay in town called Half Moon." He admitted.

Emma was scrunched up in her seat in the back, chewing her bottom lip with worry. She felt less than satisfied. Something was missing and she wasn't sure what it was. Dean and Sam were ready to blow town but Emma wasn't positive they had accomplished their mission. "Guys." She cut in to Dean's happy rant. His eyes snapped to hers in the rearview mirror. Taking a deep breath she voiced her concern. "I don't think we can leave yet. I don't think we're done."


End file.
